


ashes.

by daftusername



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daftusername/pseuds/daftusername





	ashes.

She sits at the table, hands clenched hard around the piece of paper in her hands (she is so tired of schedules), staring at the man across from her. He’s watching Gale talk and she thinks that maybe she could leave a scar on his other eye to match the faded white line that lands across his eyebrow and flickers below his lashes.

She thinks that maybe she could grow her nails out because

                                                                                            this

                                                                                                  is

                                                                                                     all

                                                                                                         his

                                                                                                              fault.

She clenches her fist and feels another piece of skin fall off her arm. She notes the flake with satisfaction, the physical reminder of her failure inescapable.

She looks up again and watches him watch clips of skirmishes and she wants to scream at him

_Why do you care_

 

but the tightening of her throat reminds that she is a ruin.

She looks up at Gale, and oh _oh_ Gale. There’s a warmth hesitating as she looks at the scars that crisscross his face and hands, tallies of all the moments he proved himself to be himself. She did things she never thought she could and he did things he always thought he would and even though they involved equal amounts of blood, they have only grown apart, this boy who never did anything but challenge her now looking at her with only pity in his eyes.

She turns away, disgusted and ashamed, and meets his eyes, carefully blank as he studies her. She takes an inventory of his face and catalogues all the ways she can kill him. He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, always knowing what is on her mind with a wry smirk and the lack of vodka on his breathe an insult to her instability.

She stands up and walks out, hearing the silence in her wake. She reaches her room and feels his hand on her waist and thinks that maybe she should have burnt along with everybody else as she leans against the warmth behind and closes her eyes.


End file.
